


You Again

by motorcitymade, whoknowswhy99



Category: Justified
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-23
Updated: 2011-12-30
Packaged: 2017-10-27 22:28:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 15,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/300722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/motorcitymade/pseuds/motorcitymade, https://archiveofourown.org/users/whoknowswhy99/pseuds/whoknowswhy99
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raylan and Winona seem to be locked in a permanent can't-live-with-can't-live-without relationship; now and well into the future. Warning Contains Mature Themes / Sexual Content in a couple of chapters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is a collaborative fic with motorcitymade. This fic was inspired by discussions at the FX Justified forum and another site. Since so many of the ladies agreed that Raylan and Winona seem to be locked in a permanent can't-live-with-can't-live-without relationship, we decided to explore it a bit. After several months, this is what 'a bit' turned into! Consider this a Christmas present for Jess, Clovergirl, Mondayschild, ripetetbook, bookperson39, okeydokey, Anyways, Cherry, LoveJustified, Giselle, Samh44, Elainebrown, Catz and others I'm sure we've neglected to mention. This fic is also inspired by the several talented Justified fan fiction authors on this site and others. Read carefully. If you see names / dates or publically expressed opinions incorporated it is purely intentional and consider this your shout out.
> 
> These characters belong to Elmore Leonard and Graham Yost and not to us. We're just playing with them for our own amusement. There may be a crossover character belonging to Warner Brothers that turns up later.

*Prologue: Ice Cream*

Winona takes a spoonful of ice cream and lets it melt in her mouth. It's cool and sweet and she relishes the fact that for the first time in weeks she doesn't feel sick. She sits on one end of the sofa; one leg propped against the arm rest with her foot crossed Indian style under her thigh, leg dangling off the cushion, toes lightly skimming the carpet. Still holding the pint of Chaneys, she takes another big scoop and licks the spoon clean with the smack of her lips.

"Ummmm, that's good."

"Alright, alright, give it here." says Raylan, reaching for the ice cream. He glances up at her, peeking through the strands of his disheveled hair, as he lies on the sofa, his head resting on Winona's lap. "I thought you said you didn't want any." He says with a teasing grin.

Winona looks down at Raylan and smiles, pondering the fact that it is nothing short of a miracle that they are both here tonight; healthy, and eating ice cream together.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o)O(o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

*Flashback: Numb with Slumber*

To say the last three months had been challenging would be an understatement. Raylan was confined to U of K Hospital for six weeks after the shooting. Initially, the first surgery to remove his spleen and repair his liver seemed to come off without a hitch. Then, the infection...peritonitis-from the Oakridge Boy's unseen bullet fragment...and finally, the reaction to the antibiotics; had beaten Raylan's body to a pulp like no thug or coalmine ever had. Winona was there the entire time. Even as she had threatened otherwise, she was there. She was always there, even when he didn't know it.

The first few weeks of their pregnancy were nearly as difficult on Winona. She hated hospitals. The glaring lights reflected off metal and steel made her head feel like it would explode. The smell. The horrible aroma of disinfectant and synthetic chemical compounds made her green with nausea. The only relief came when the mercy of sleep overtook her fatigue as she sat, night after night, curled up in the chair next to Raylan's bed.

The hospital staff was as kind and accommodating as possible during the weeks of Raylan's stay. Until the legalities crept in when Raylan's health took a serious turn in response to some ill prescribed erythromycin.

"We need to speak to the family." The young doctor said.

"I'm family…I'm his..wife…was his wi… (Clearing her throat) I'm his ex-wife." Winona proclaimed.

"You're not family." the doctor dismissed her and continued flipping pages to study the had never felt so small and inferior. Who was this man chastising her? He was something Arabic; but he looked like a Boy Scout.

In fact, the doctor was not wrong. She was not Mrs. Givens. The truth was, at that moment she was still Mrs. Hawkins. She hung her head and grasped her hair in her hands, cringing at the self made misery she was enduring.

"Is there anyone else?" The doctor asked.

"Uh, he has a father, but, uhh, they're not close." Arlo? Seriously? No. While he was subdued and sweet at their one and only meeting at Helen's funeral; Winona had glimpsed Arlo's mark on Raylan over the years, and she knew how he felt about his daddy. Raylan would rather die than let Arlo into their lives. For a moment, anyway, it looked as if that might actually come to pass.

The Marshal's service was all the family Raylan had, and as it turned out, it was all the family he needed. The Marshals were wonderful to Winona, offering her respite from the watch to attend to her own four week checkup. Rachael was as comforting as a sister, and Tim stopped by nearly every day to recite a different Afghanistan story to Raylan, as he lay numb with slumber. Once, Tim broke into a ridiculous off key warble of a Dolly Parton ballad in an effort to break the tension in the room. Raylan just opened his eyes a little and smiled. There were Marshals and Troopers and Officers and a myriad of other visitors with uniforms and shiny badges. They all seemed to run together like paint through Winona's tired eyes.

When she faced the hospital's staunch Hippa privacy blockade, the Marshal Service managed to come up with a twelve-year-old Medical Power of Attorney document, signed by Raylan and long filed away in his employee folder amid the many, many incident reports. I nominate Winona Cochran as my representative in all matters pertaining to my health and medical care…. Winona secretly wondered if Art had called on his pals at the Secret Service's document and forgery division to materialize that document out of thin air. Or maybe Dan in Miami had some role in it. Dan had called several times, and after speaking with him, she got the feeling that Dan was a color-outside-the-lines kind of kindred spirit to Raylan.

Regardless, the paper turned up right when she needed it. She was now responsible for him, and she felt the full weight of the document like it was lead. She didn't know whether she could muster the strength to face another day at the hospital. Would it be another day of sickness, or another hopeful rally, followed by another setback? Each evening Winona faced her biggest fear as she parked her car in the structure and made the long walk through the corridors of the hospital.

Dear God, please ….prepare me for this hourwas chanted along with the clicks of her steps. Anger over the situation had long since melted into acceptance. Some times you just can't help. Art's words echoed into her very soul. Some times you just can't control, she corrected her thoughts with resignation. Each day she realized anew that if she could face this ordeal; this series of ordeals, and persevere, then she could face anything. She lifted Raylan's hand and rested it on her still slender belly. She hoped to God they'd face it together.

It was a rainy Tuesday afternoon when she entered Raylan's room to find him sitting up, alert and fumbling with the TV remote. He had been gradually improving for a couple of days, but this was the first time in weeks he'd been upright.

"Raylan!" She rushed to his bedside. "I don't know whether to kiss you or slap you."

"I vote for the first one."

Later that day, the young doctor came in again, this time looking up from the lab report with a smile and direct eye contact. "Well," He said, "I have the best news ever."

Raylan and Winona each shifted their eyes toward each other with a sweet acknowledgement of their private memory.

"Your white count is coming down steadily and..and..you're never going to take erythromycin again."The Boy Scout doctor was strangely humble for a moment. "So, barring any new and unforeseen complications, you should be home in few days, Marshal."

Holding hands, they sighed as they both let out a little laugh. The happiness in the room was palpable.

"I'll get PT in here to get you going. Ok then, see you both tomorrow." The doctor excused himself with some degree of satisfaction, inaudibly murmuring Thank Allah I didn't kill a cop.

Winona felt a great burden lift from her shoulders. She plopped down in the chair, exhausted. She folded her arms and leaned forward to rest her head on Raylan's bed. He caressed her hair. He'll be home in a few days she thought. The only thing left now to do is determine where home is.

"See, I told you I would be fine."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

A/N by MCM edited by WKW


	2. Two in Limbo

*Flashback: Two In Limbo*

She was right. He knew it. She had to bring it up. They just couldn't stay in the motel any longer. His mind raced as he sipped his whiskey. He relished this rare moment of solitude since being discharged from the hospital. Winona generally hovered like a hummingbird, but at this moment she was shopping for clothes; maternity clothes

She's three months pregnant. He thought. Three months. The last two of those months were a complete an utter blur to him. His time in the hospital was less of a memory to him and more like a conglomeration of terrible factoids recited by Winona and others.

For a moment he pondered the passage of time. September, October, November. He counted on his fingers. August, The "victory lap" morning? He smiled to himself. He rattled his head as if to shake the confusion away and settled himself on the lumpy motel bed with another sip from his glass. Three Months.

At least he was back on his feet. A couple of weeks of physical therapy had apparently given Winona the impression he could stay by himself. Thank God. He was certainly dexterous enough to lumber over to his bottle stashed in the kitchenette and splash the remaining ice with a refill. It was Jack instead of Jim, but it would do in a pinch. He took a swig, meandered over to the desk and rested the glass; looking at himself in the mirror. He was thin; as thin as he'd been since high school. He twisted his body and lifting his shirt, inspected the bandaged wound that encircled his side in reflection. His ribs protruded prominently through his flesh. He ran his hand along his left arm, along the bicep and tricep. Although he knew it was impossible, he imagined for a minute that an inch of muscle was simply knocked away by Dickey Bennett's bat. I shoulda shot that motherfucker. He thought

Glass in tow, He made the futile effort to pull his baggy jeans over his hip bones and padded back over to the bed. He sat, and the only thing audible was a sigh. How am I supposed to move; me and Winona and all her stuff; and where to? He thought, as he ran his fingers through his hair. He felt like a milk kitten. Glynco was up in the air. He had to be well enough to work before it was a matter of where to work. And anyway, he'd have to pass the same physical for Glynco as for a field marshal. He wasn't passing any physical anytime soon. He wondered if he could hold his gun steady much less shoot it. He envisioned himself driving an ice cream truck and he chuckled out loud just for a second.

I could buy Winona's house in foreclosure. He winced at the thought as the melody of Pleasant Valley Sunday rang in his mind. The suburban status symbol was just not his taste. His mind was drawn back to a visit to that house; however, accompanying her to pick up something she had to retrieve- shoes-or something like that. The vision of having had Winona bent over Gary's prized but garish antique credenza; luscious ass in hand; made him smile wickedly with satisfaction. Take that, Mr. Salesman of the Year.

"Mmmm." He sighs at the memory and his cock twitches. Maybe he was feeling better; maybe it was just the two jiggers of jack. Better not think about that now…Ah, I'd just have to sell it if we get to Glynco, even if I got it for a song, owning it would complicate things in the end.

Gary. I never shoulda chased him off. If I'd only known they hadn't signed the papers. He was glad he was alone because the lament surely shown on his face. The thought of his child being born to Mrs. Hawkins made him sick to his stomach and angry. This must be how Winona feels. He thought. Maybe Duffy offed him by now he pondered as he took the last sip and pulled the remnants of an ice cube into his mouth. He bit down hard and crushed the ice with his teeth as he thought about that man, Wynn Duffy.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Winona came in an hour or so later toting several large bags from Dillard's, A Pea in the Pod, and Mother Lode She fumbled trying to get the key out of door number eight as she propped it open with her high heeled shoe. Raylan rose to help her as the bags slipped from her hands.

"No, I've got it..there's more in the car..thank you, Honey."

"There's more in the car? How can there be more in the car, it looks like you already bought the whole store…..Mother Lode? "He read the long handled shopping bag. "I thought I already gave you that?" He shrugged and smiled.

Raylan carefully slipped out the door past Winona. He raised his gaze and squinted at the glowing orb in the western sky. The sun seemed like an unfamiliar visitor, but the air still held the chill of November. He walked slowly down the steps toward her car. A plain Toyota Camry that was showing wear. He tried the door, but was locked; a safety protocol she still followed.

"Unlock it." He raised his voice. There was no electronic key fob on the imported roller-skate. Winona leaned out the door briefly and gave the keys a good toss toward his head. He ducked back and caught the keys in mid air in front of his face, Whew. He was getting better.

"'Nona, we've got to get you a better car." He said ashe opened the door. He slipped the keys in the front pocket of his baggy jeans and retrieved the packages. These damned Toyota's don't like to stop when you hit the brake.

"Uh hum"

"I don't know why you didn't buy a Ford; they put them together over at Louisville Assembly, 'Keeps Kentucky folks workin'". Raylan was a union man through and through. United Mine Workers, United Auto Workers or FLEO, it was all the same to him.

"I just took it in, Remember? (You probably don't) They fixed the thingy." Winona called from in front of the closet.

"What happened to that Buick you were drivin'?"

"Who knows, that was Gary's lease"

Gary. Gah. Raylan wrinkled his brow entering the room with the spoils of her afternoon of retail plunderage.

"Besides, it gets good gas mileage. Not everyone has the U.S. Taxpayer pick up the tab for their gasoline, you know." Winona spoke with the faint snarl of sarcasm.

Raylan looked at her confounded for a second. Has she been drinkin' "tea"? He thought. Well, She's certainly entitled to her opinions.

"Yeah well, you need something safer now."He walked over to where she was trying to stuff her new wardrobe into the cramped closet and dropped the packages.

"Maybe we should get a minivan."

He gaped at her in horror and she laughed. "I'm joking, Honey. What do you think?" She held up a colorful print something-or-other article of clothing that draped from a hanger.

"It's pretty." It looked like something that Ringling Brothers would erect at the county fair; but he knew better than to pass judgment about fashion or to compare her new maternity clothing to a tent.

He reached for her and she discarded the garment across the back of the chair. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead.

"What did you do today?" she asked, continuing the embrace.

"Oh, exactly as I was told" He jested and she giggled. Winona curled her arms around his thin waist, purposefully avoiding the bandaged area.

"Raylan, you're still so skinny…you're supposed to be eating not drinkin'." She pulled back and looked at him; the baggy jeans barely clung to his hip bones. Her heavy keys in his pocket pulled the front fly just low enough to start to expose him. "You need a belt." She jostled the waistband of his pants and pulled her keys out of his pocket, tossing them on the dresser next to the whiskey glass.

"See anything you like?" He said, twitching again for the second time that afternoon. Yep, he was definitely feeling better.

"Oh, Honey, of course I do." She said sweetly. "It's just that ...I'm just so tired…I was on my feet all day and I…" As if to prove her statement, she smothered a yawn.

"I see that" Raylan dropped his head and shoulders in acknowledgment of the turn down and motioned to the packages scattered about the room.

"and…I got feeling like I was going to pass out at Dillards and I had to sit down…" She continued over him.

"Did you see the bill?" He teased, not seriously wanting to poke fun at her discomfort. He knew she was sincere. "O.K., O.K. It's o.k." He pulled her back into his arms in silence. They stood motionless for a moment, each seemingly holding the other up; before he motioned her over to the bed. "Come on, let's relax."

He slid over onto the bed and she scooted in beside him, closest to the edge. Lying on his left side wasn't comfortable but he did it so he could rest his hand on her belly. She had the slightest beginning of a bump, he thought. Where there was once a soft concave waist there was a molded firmness to her body which fascinated him. "How we doin'?"Winona just sighed, smiled and nodded her head in the affirmative.

"Nona...why'd you buy so much stuff so soon? I mean..It's still early on and I don't want you to be disappointed if something were to hap…."

"Nothing is going to happen…I'm past 3 months now."

"I know. I just don't want to see you go through that hell again…"

"We're fine. What happened last time….was a fluke. It won't happen again".

"I know…I just worry, that's all" He was sorry he brought it up. They kissed and each tried to move their mind away from the memory of that sad event so long ago in Georgia.

Winona put her arms around his neck and he lifted his body to kiss her more deeply. His mind moved in a flash away from that last thought and toward erotic desire. He wanted so badly to slide his hand from her belly up to her swollen breast, which appeared to inflate by at least a cup size in the last week. Definitely feeling fine. He thought, purposely sliding himself against her as threw his leg over hers and pulled her closer. He knew he could probably "talk" her into it; but they hadn't made love since before the shooting, and he wanted it to be a mutual endeavor. So, he broke away from the kiss and gave a little groan and an instant grin

"You're giving me a lead pipe"

"I see that" she imitated him with one of his oft used phrases. So they laughed together; drew in each other's breath and re circulated the levity as he readjusted himself flat on his back.

"Whew…o.k." He said, adjusting the pillow.

"Hey, I do have a present for you, though" She said, sitting up

Raylan looked surprisedand sat up. "Whaat?"

Winona leaned down and rifled through one of the packages still scattered about the motel room floor.

"Here" She handed him a small white box.

"A bracelet?"

"It's a medic alert..See?"

"Al-ler-gic to Ery-thro-my-cin" he read. "Oh". There was a second line "Spleen- ectomy".Winona took the bracelet and fastened it around his left wrist and held his hand. He suddenly felt like he had a damaged goods stamp. "That will get in the way of my watch, besides; I think it's this one that needs the new hardware".He said as he tapped his empty wedding ring finger on her palm

She dropped her head and her hair fell, hiding her face. She inhaled sharply and it was clear she was going to cry.

Shit. He thought. He brushed the hair back with his fingers. "Aww. Nona, don't cry." He continued "I like it, I swear, I'll wear it, Thank-You".

"It's not the stupid bracelet"Her voice cracked with the words. "It's this." Her fingers encircled his empty ring finger.

"I hate it too, you know. And I've got no one to blame but myself." She sniffled and straightened herself. "Do you still have your wedding band?"

"No."Raylan was surprised at the turn of the conversation. It seemed to him her thoughts moved like a pinball. Must be her hormones? He knew better than to voice that thought out loud.

"No? What did you do with it?"

"I crushed it with a pair of channelocks."

"You crushed your wedding band with a pair of pliers!"

"Well not until you married Gary". He dug the name into her whether he meant to or not.

Winona rolled her eyes with an exasperated smirk and swallowed hard the bitter pill of her past.

"I don't understand what got into Gary. Why would he just take off like this? I swear I could strangle him!" The tears welled again. "Do you think he's doing it on purpose?

Raylan managed a shrug. Damn. For the second time in a day he regretted his decision to chase Gary away. Maybe they'd have been better off if he'd just handed him over to Duffy. No, besides, the last thing I need to contend with is a martyr. Maybe Winona would be better off knowing exactly what kind of guy he was.

"We've got some time." He reassured her.

"Six months. Maybe less." She pulled the pillow onto her lap and hugged it tightly. "I don't want to have this baby as Mrs. Hawkins." She spat the last part out.

"I know." He sighed. "Maybe Judge Reardon would know a way around the signature? I mean, that's all you need, right?"

"I already asked. It can become final without Gary's signature, but only after six months. So that won't help."

"So we could get married in the delivery room?" He joked.

She shook her head. "If he'd wanted to hold up the divorce, there were plenty of other ways to do it. I wonder sometimes if something happened to him. I mean, not just me, I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't want to talk to me, but no one at work has heard from him, and his old roommate from UK even called me looking for him."

"You worried about him?" He didn't mean to sound jealous, but from the look he got, evidently he had.

"Not like that…but..sure." She nodded. "I wouldn't want anything horrible to happen to him."

Again he wondered if she'd feel the same way if she knew the whole story. "He'll turn up." He pulled her down and she settled her head on his chest, her tears abated. He'll turn up… one way or another He thought silently.

"I called on a couple of storage units for you today." Raylan said after a few minutes.

"Oh, good. Thank you. I've only got 45 days you know, before I have to turn in the keys". She prodded slightly, even though her voice fought back a yawn.

"I know. I can't move all of that crap from your house alone, 'Nona. We'll have to hire someone". He stared at the ceiling. God, we've got to get this all behind us and get settled someplace. Glynco or Good Humorville, someplace. He felt like a weight was pushing him into the mattress and he was falling straight through it.

"Umm Humm" She sleepily acknowledged.

He took a labored breath and cleared his throat. "I'm not moving that god damned credenza thing….."

"Okay." Winona said dreamily.

"…And all the apartments- they all want a one year lease. There's the Extended Stay Suites, over off of I-75, but for what they want for that place we might as well stay he…" He looked down at Winona, who was clearly sleeping. He nestled her and chuckled with soft irony.

I'm talking….. She's sleeping. With that he turned off his mind along with the lamp and slept.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

A/N by MCM and WKW


	3. The Devil You Know

*Flashback: The Devil You Know*

 _Sometimes, it's the Devil you know_ _,_ he told himself. The wound still hurt when he wedged his body out of the cramped Toyota in front of Emmitt Arnett's office building.

Yvette greeted him in the suite lobby with the same coquettish flirtation as the first time he had met her, only this time it seemed she couldn't take her eyes off him.

"Marshal Givens, how nice to see you again…Wow…I like the hat"

"Oh, Yeah…I guess I didn't have it with me last time, did I?" Actually he had left it, on purpose, the last time he visited Arnett's swank office at the capitol plaza office tower, since he was hatless at their first tango. Raylan removed his hat and returned the flirty grin. If he was at the top of his game, he would have left it at home this time as well. "Could I leave this with you, then?"

"Certainly" Yvette replied. She stashed the hat at her receptionist desk and led him through the chrome trimmed doors to Emmitt's office. "Mr. Arnett, look who's here"

Emmitt Arnett was standing, fully clothed, looking out his window at the panoramic view from the twenty-seventh floor when Raylan arrived.

"Emmitt…"

"Marshal Givens. I saw you on my appointment calendar; to what do I own this honor?"

"Oh, just a little visit to get re acquainted, you know what they say "Keep your friends close..."

"And your enemies closer." Arnett finishes. "I hardly think we're enemies now, Marshal."

Yvette lingered in the room near the Italian espresso maker. Emmitt wordlessly motioned to Yvette and Raylan nodded and said "Certainly."

Emmitt held up two fingers and Yvette prepared and served the coffee, then she excused herself with a wink at Raylan.

"Won't you be seated?"

"I will if you will." Raylan retorted

"I suppose…." Arnett slid into his high back leather chair and buckled the creases in his suit as if it pained him to do so. "Are you feeling poorly, Mr. Givens, you look a little peaked, thinner"

"Oh , no, no, I was…but I'm sure you heard all about that….but everything is fine now"

"Oh yes, that gun play that erupted down in Harlan…I didn't realize that was your part of the state, Raylan"

"A child can't help where he's born"

"Well then", Emmitt said skeptically, "What brings you to see me the, because I'm not sure I want to get acquainted; or re acquainted with the U.S. Marshall's service, as the case may be."

"Well, I'm here as a private citizen." Raylan assured. "Actually, to inquire about your real estate holdings." Arnett looked confused.

"You said you had invested state wide in Kentucky blue grass foreclosures, just waiting for the market to turn around to make you a multimillion dollar fortune."

"That's right"

"Well, I may have another opportunity for you."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I'll get to that…. but first…. your friend Wynn Duffy, you remember him? Well he took a contract on my ex-wife, Winona Hawkins."

"Wynn Duffy is not my friend"

"Actually it was her **new** husband, _Gary_ ; _you remember Gary Hawkins_ , that **put** the contract out on her, but I chased him off, you see." Raylan talks with his hands.

"Yes, Gary,...such a disappointment"

"Actually, I chased both him and Wynn Duffy off, but that's beside the point."

"I meant to thank you for that…I regretted my arrangement with Mr. Duffy"

He took a sip of his spiked coffee and continued. "Um, that's good…Now Winona….she needs to get out from under a big foot house before the bank moves in; in oh, about a month from now. He pulled the listing out from his jacket pocket and gave it to Arnett, who glanced it over and looked up.

"You want me to buy your ex-wife's house?" Emmitt asked, dubiously. Raylan raised his finger and continued.

"Now at the same time, I…" He motions to himself "… am in need of a temporary rental property, month to month, for about the next six months or so, maybe a little longer; until my re assignment comes through."

"You want me to buy your ex-wife's house and rent you a property?" He said.

"Short term, yes"

"Well I'm ripe with properties in Lexington, and I've certainly got no qualms with renting a property to… **someone as trustworthy as yourself** "

"I'm here as a private citizen." He re iterated

"I told you I owed you one, Givens, but this sound like two." Arnett said. "You have an unusual interest in helping your former wife"

"Actually, Miz Hawkins would like to become Missus Givens…again…." Raylan ran his tongue behind his lower lip and smiled and cleared his throat. "Ms. Hawkins would like to become Missus Givens sometime before next May 12th…give or take"

"Oh, my…." Arnett said, "…..am I to infer, then, that congratulations are in order?"

"You may." Raylan said with a little shrug and a glint in his eye as he sipped his coffee.

"What a tangled web we weave…"

"Um hum...and that brings me back to your friend Wynn Duffy, and his business contract with Mr. Hawkins….Remember, I told you, I ran them off...not together of course, but you understand…"

"I think I do…" Emmitt took a sip of his coffee. "You need **your** ex wife to become **his** ex wife, so to speak, before a little bundle of joy arrives….."

"Exactly."

"Humph". Arnett sighs and presses his fingertips together in thought.

"A child can't help where he's born, Emmitt." There was emphasis in Raylan's voice.

"Complicated….tell me, why you aren't talking to Mr. Duffy about this?"

"Because I told him that the next time I saw him, we wouldn't be having a conversation."

"I see. And what is it that you would like for me to convey, Marshal? That you need Gary to _turn up_ or you need Gary to _float up_?"

Raylan raises an eyebrow and thinks about his response. "That I need to be advised of the current disposition of Mr. Hawkins."

"And why would I get involved in all this, since I seem to owe you one favor and not, what is it now, three?"

"Funny you should ask." Raylan said. "Rumor has it that you're in pretty deep with some tough guys up north in Detroit."

Arnett set his cup down, surprised, as Raylan continued. "Yeah…not these young hip hop type of gangsters…No, No, your guys are old school…the kind that made Jimmy Hoffa disappear…Humph, and they still haven't found _him_ yet, have they?"

"I thought you were here as a private citizen?"

"Oh, I am, but that doesn't mean that I don't have the full knowledge of the U.S. Marshal's services up here." Raylan tapped his forehead. "See the chief up there, Chief Grubbs; he's listening to the Motown sound of your colleagues….. From the inside,…and if they were to be plannin' anything…like say, an impromptu margin call on their little investment.…('cause you know how tough things are up in Detroit right now)…then I would surely know about it in advance."

"I see…." Emmitt paused for a long while. "Well I can certainly offer you a lease on a property, payable in advance, of course; and I guess there would be certain serendipity if I were to purchase Gary Hawkins property." Arnett said, looking over the impressive color brochure of the house.

"I thought you might think so."

"And seeing as that I am a _legitimate_ business man, I would wish no less legitimacy for you and the once and future Mrs. Givens; as you take the big leap into parenthood."

Raylan couldn't help sighing audibly as he set down his coffee cup.

"I'll look into that other issue for you and get things rolling"

"Thank-you, Emmitt," He nodded his head with some attrition.

"Raylan." Arnett nodded. "Yvette will see you out."

Raylan retrieved his hat from Yvette and rode the elevator down alone. He leaned hard into wall, hung his head and played with his hat. _Justice, Integrity, Service._ He thought. _Integrity…._ He heaved a breath. The elevator door chimed and slid open. He put his hat on and strode through the lobby, through the heavy glass doors, and headed for the Toyota.

 _Sometimes, it's the Devil you know_. He thought. _Sometimes, it's the Devil you know_


	4. London Calling

*Flashback: London Calling*

The sturdy men, the last stragglers from moving day, Tim Gutterson and Tom Bergan, meandered around the boxes as they finished their beers. Rachel was in the kitchen helping Winona put away the few necessities she had brought from that enormous kitchen in the suburbs.

"No lifting!" Rachael said, as she took the box marked 'glass' out of Winona's hand. "Some of these are heavier than they look."

The little duplex, half the duplex to be more exact, was small but stylish, built during the late'90s boom; in a development in the part of town that attracts young, upwardly mobile urban professionals. There was a huge master suite with a nicely appointed bath in the loft, and a smaller office sized room separate from that. Winona wondered if they would be the oldest kids on the block, or maybe just the most un-hip, the man with the gold star and the pregnant lady. But it was close to the courthouse, modern and filled with light, and besides, it was only temporary. Surely Raylan would hear about Glynco soon after returning to work.

"Are you sure you don't have any more boxes marked 'shoes" Winona? Cause I can take a couple more trips up those stairs and get all my cardio in today." Tim joked. Raylan smirked and Winona tossed a dishtowel toward the men, who chuckled.

"Ha Ha, very funny." In fact there were more boxes marked "shoes" moved to this duplex than with almost any other inscription. Most of Winona's clothing, along with most the contents of the suburban palace, had been moved into storage; since neither would fit in this new situation. She chose carefully what belongings to bring to this condo. Most of them were from her basement, gently used artifacts from Winona and Raylan's first marriage, that, for some reason, she never parted with.

Tom helped Raylan arrange the few pieces of furniture, chairs, tables and lamps; quickly, lifting them as if they were doll furniture. "You don't have a sofa" Tom said. "We moved that brown one into storage, do you want to go get it?"

"Naaa", Raylan replied "We'll get a new one."

Just then Winona's cell rang and stopped her from the task in the kitchen.

"Hello? Yes. Hi, Michele." There was a long pause. "What? When? You're kidding me. Oh, my God." Her voice carried nervous agitation. She slid seated onto the step ladder the women had been using in the kitchen. Tom and Tim watched the one sided exchange, looked at each other and nodded toward the door before stepping out onto the small porch. Rachael too, put down the dish drainer and slunk out of the kitchen, but stayed within earshot. Raylan recognized Michele as Winona's lawyer, and stood concerned, watching her body language and listening.

"London?" Winona Said. "I can't believe it. When did he call?" Winona put her hand over the phone, looked up at Raylan and mouthed the name _Gary_. Raylan raised his eyes and waited for the conversation to conclude. "Yes, yes…..that's great news" She continued. "Alright then….please let me know as soon they arrive…you too…thanks, Michele. Um hum, Bye, bye." Winona looked up, still stunned. "Hum, Gary called. He's in Ontario, Canada."

"Canada, **eh**?" Raylan mocked. "I thought you said London?"

"Yeah," she chuckled. "London, Ontario. Evidently the real estate crash wasn't so bad in Canada. He's fed-x-ing the divorce papers." She got up and moved toward Raylan with a huge smile. "I should have them in less than week."

"See, I told you he would turn up." He said as they pulled each other into an embrace. "Everything's going to be fine… **Beauty, Eh?** "

"Wow." She raised her head from under his chin and cast a skeptical gaze. "Raylan….you didn't have anything to do with the timing of all this….I mean the bid on the house and Gary showing up and all…did you?"

Me? Naa…I don't know anything a-boot Canada. He said grinning. "Listen, we're a-boot wrapped up here in the hoose…and I…"

Winona swatted at him affectionately "You're having too much fun with this." She said, laughing at the impression

He straightened. "…and I need to take these guys out and make one last trip to the motel." He kissed her on the forehead and threw his flannel back on. "Let's go guys…you too, Rachael?"

"No, thank-you." Rachel smiled at the exchange and said. "I'll stay here for a few more minutes…I'm going to my mother's and she's on this side of town so…"

"Okay, Thanks again, Rachael." Raylan picked up his hat and met the men outside, gingerly bounding down the steps.

"And I didn't believe you when you said you didn't kill him." Tim said following Raylan.

"Told 'ya"

"Hey, guys…" Tom called from the behind. "What did I miss?"

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

A/N by MCM edited by WKW


	5. Celebratory Circumstances

*Flashback: Celebratory Circumstances*

Raylan left the bar in pretty good condition, knowing he had a few miles to drive. The men had found a watering hole South on I-75 a few exits to get Tom a little close to home. The farther he drove, however, the more he felt like his little buzz intensified rather than dissipated. He was still a few pounds lighter since the shooting and it was hard to judge his new limit. Before he took the last beer, Tom had warned him that it was especially hard to judge under uncustomary celebratory circumstances. Tom should know, as many drunk drivers as he'd hauled away. It was dark early that night, as it is in last days of November, and he was certainly glad to pull into the motel and get out from behind the wheel of that cramped Toyota.

 _Celebratory circumstances._ He chuckled audibly as he stumbled up the steps and caught himself at the door. _Celibatory circumstances._ He jumbled with the key and laughed as if there were an unspoken joke between him and the motel that had greeted him in this condition so many times. _"Cardinal, Cardinal, the word is Celebrate,… not Celibate"_ he recites the old punch line to the knotty pine before tossing the hat and collapsing on bed with a huff.

He laughed for a minute and swiped a long arm across the bread spread _Oh, Winona._ He sighed. Then, he righted himself and pushed himself up on his elbows. _I hope you feel like it soon, Woman._

He sat there for a moment trying to collect his thoughts. He wished he could turn out the light and crawl into that lumpy bed for just one more night. He thought about calling; but she was waiting for him over _there_ , and he'd have hell to pay if he did. Better, probably, to walk off the buzz.

He wandered around checking to make sure the room was emptied of all of his _and her_ belongings. He checked the closet and the drawers; the tiny pantry and the bathroom. Empty. Strangely empty. Like the last year in this place had never happened.

Memories flooded his mind with sudden lucid clarity. He thought about the first time he walked into this place, with his hat, one suitcase and a duffel; misplaced and miserable in Kentucky. He thought about being immediately immersed in mischief of Harlan, with the Crowder clan, like a being sucked into a storm drain after a country rain. He thought about Ava; making love to her here, and breaking her heart. _Did he drive her into the arms of Boyd, to the life she would now lead?_ He thought about His Daddy and about betrayal and regret. He thought about Helen, and the man who murdered her, the man who almost beat him to death. _Dickie._ _I shoulda shot that motherfucker._

And of course, he thought about Winona. He thought about the night she woke him in the midnight hour and made love to him like an erotic dream. _Should he have said no? Maybe. Could he have said no? Never._ Thinking of her made him twitch as usual; but this time he felt it in his heart as much as his pants. Cliché's about fate and second chances came to mind as he heaved a sigh and sat back down. _The baby…..the life inside Winona's swollen little belly, likely conceived right here._ He thought, touching the faded bedspread.

In this room, he ended the lives of two men, but began another. " _Does that make things even?"_ He asked aloud. He thought about Arlo and what it means to be a father, and Raylan hoped like hell he'd be better than his example. He thought about Art and piles of money and temptation and heard Art's voice lecturing him about doing _things that are not smart._

He wondered for a minute, how smart he really was; if he was smart enough to learn from all those things that had come to pass; and face the things that were yet to be.

He cleared his mind and looked at his watch, put on the hat, then got up to go. He flipped his keys and made for the door. He opened it and turned to look back, scanning the room one last time. His eyes fell on the nightstand and he hesitated before walking over to it. He opened it and looked down _. Gideon's Bible;_ Black and bound with gold leaf on the page edge. He flipped through it, his thumb stopped somewhere in the sixth chapter in the book of Matthew. His eyes fell on the page and he read "Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble."

 _Humph?_ He thought. _Take each day as it comes._ He smiled and mused at the message. _Not exactly the Lord of War and Thunder for a change….You got it, Boss._ He closed the good book and stashed it back in the drawer as he again made for the the door. This time he turned off the light, closed the door for the last time and walked out into the night without looking back.

 _Sometimes it's the Devil you know….Sometimes….it's the Other Guy._

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o)O(o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

A/N by MCM edited by WKW


	6. Ice Cream 2

*Present day: Ice Cream 2*

Winona takes a spoonful of ice cream and lets it melt in her mouth. It's cool and sweet and she relishes the fact that for the first time in _weeks_ she doesn't feel sick. She sits on one end of the new sofa; one leg propped against the arm rest with her foot crossed Indian style under her thigh, leg dangling off the cushion, toes lightly skimming the carpet. Still holding the pint of Cheneys, she takes another big scoop and licks the spoon clean with the smack of her lips.

"Ummmm, that's good _."_

"Alright, alright, give it here." says Raylan, reaching for the ice cream. He glances up at her, peeking through the strands of his disheveled hair, as he lies on the sofa, his head resting on Winona's lap. "I thought you said you didn't want any." He says with a teasing grin.

Winona looks down at Raylan and smiles, pondering the fact that it is nothing short of a miracle that they are both here tonight; _healthy,_ and eating ice cream together. She gently pushes the hair from his eyes, but holds the pint over her head out of even his long reach.

"You need a haircut…there must be someplace **around here** _…"_

"I'll get one… if you give me that _..."_

"I'll give you just a little taste. _"_ Winona scoops up a spoonful and feeds it to him. He takes it as playfully as it is offered.

"Oh yeah? A taste of what?" Raylan lifts her pajama top while still resting in her lap. He rolls toward her and kisses her little belly bump. She squeals a giggle at the coldness of his lips and he continues. In an instant he's propped himself up on one arm, pulling at her top. His hand slowly kneads her swollen breasts as she pulls the top free of her hair and lets it fall behind the sofa.

"That feels good… _I_ feel good." she says looking into his eyes.

"I waited so long for you to say that." He scoots easily off the sofa and onto his knees, pulling both shirts over his head on the way. Winona makes sure his hands are back on her as soon he discards the clothing. She feels his eyes on her, too and she arches her back and watches him look at her changing body. She lets her eyes roam as well; down the length of his body, lithe and lean and muscular; a predominate scar engraved across his side. Her eyes fall onto the growing bulge evident in his baggy jeans. Just knowing she's about to unwrap that package makes her tense with arousal.

"Yeah, well, I've waited weeks for you to say _anything_." She uncoils her leg and slides forward as he slips into position. Skin to skin, their arms go around each other. She presses against him to feel the hardness of his cock beneath his zipper and he gives a throaty moan.

" _Anything."_ Raylan says. He looks deeply into her eyes, and she feels him pulling her into a state of mind where only they exist. Only the two of them and the erotic power they share; and command. But there's something more between them now. _Much more than there's ever been before_ ; a new life that they've created together, in metaphor and in fact.

She coos as she returns the gaze; she lays her hand on his chest, his face. She wants him to see her with the depth that she sees him, with awe and desire and need **.** Certainly he does, because when her lips part, he kisses her deeply, moving her between feelings of tenderness and want.

The heat of his breath, then the roughness of his face against her collarbone is infinitely arousing. He cradles her head beside him and with his soft voice repeats "Anything".

"Anything?" She asks coyly. He stops and looks at her. Winona glances over at the abandoned pint of ice cream and raises an eyebrow suggestively. He grins like a mischievous boy, eyes smiling beneath the strands of hair and she feeds him a big scoop with a giggle.

"Umm" he responds. He lets it melt and chill his lips and tongue and catches a drop on his lip with his knuckle. She inhales sharply when the cold meets her breast.

"They're so sensitive." She throws her head back and moans. His mouth hardens her nipples like bullets. The cold retreats. She cups her breast as he sucks and licks at the puckered rosy flesh. She reaches for his zipper but he deflects her hand and leans away. "I'm pretty sensitive too." He murmurs. He must be. He's been after her from almost the moment he got out of the hospital and she feels guilty for not having indulged him until now.

While out of her reach Raylan pushes her knees together and in one strong fluid movement he pulls the short bottoms of her PJs off her hips and down her slender legs. He moves in, helps her grapple with one of the big sofa pillows and lays her down, slowly lifting her ankle to his shoulder.

He lies across her and clicks his teeth. "Nona…one more." She giggles and serves him up another cold bite.

"You'll get me all sticky" she says.

His large strong hands run down her body, cradling her hips, kissing all the way down until the ice cream melts. He curls his fingers against her, gently spreading the already slippery folds.

"Oh, my…..I think I already did." His breathes, then treats her to his cool silky tongue.

"Ooohhhh, Raylan."

He's good at this. He always has been, since they were first lovers in Salt Lake City. He knows how to treat a woman, or at least, how to treat Winona. He's never hesitant and always willing. He seems to sense her wants and needs and meet them; even though sometimes he'll tease her and make her ask out loud. He makes love to her often enough this way to be very deft, but not so much as to become routine.

Today he's especially gentle. His tongue lashes over her. He licks in slow, languid circles before suckling her softly. He isn't rough with his hands, either. He trails his fingers across the outside and doesn't enter her. She wonders if he's reserved because of her pregnancy; or simply to prolong the experience. She doesn't need any more coaxing; she's ready to come. She runs her fingers through his hair and presses herself harder against his tongue, but she aches to feel him inside her.

"Raylan….get your pants off and get up here." She gasps, rising up on her elbows. "Make love to me, Cowboy.

She doesn't have to tell him twice.

He lifts her leg off his shoulder and rises up; his face glossy and wet. With the pop of a button and the sound of a zip the pants and boxers go around his knees as demanded. He wipes his forearm across his mouth and takes Winona by the hips and draws her to the edge of the couch.

She watches his face when he penetrates her, inching in easy. He shuts his eyes slowly and reopens them in a heavy blink. "Nona," he growls. She's tight; she knows it. She's been practicing those Kegels exercises just like the _Expecting_ book said; but the way she grips him now is as much reflexive as voluntary. He fills her; fits _her._ No man has ever felt quite as right, quite as made for her, and she wants him. She loves him.

She starts to move against him but he steadies her hips. "Wait, Wait, Wait…hold on a second." He stammers and pulls nearly out. Winona grins and doesn't let him. She squeezes him like she means to keep him inside her forever. She can't remember the last time she saw him like this; vulnerable to her every movement, but she enjoys this moment of watching him go still and steel himself, eyes closed, shivering away the urge.

Ready or not, she moves against him again. She wraps a supple leg around his good side and pulls him in. She rests her other heel on the sofa for leverage and rises up to meet him. She slides herself along his shaft, coating him. Their eyes lock on each other in this intimate dance.

"I want to be the one to make us both come," she says, transfixed.

His jaw goes slack and his eyes widen at her words. She controls the rhythm. He glides his thumb across her flesh, stopping just below her clit, rocking it each time she thrusts against him. She wants to shut her eyes and bask in the sensation but this requires all of her senses.

"Yeaah" She moans. "Come with me. Come with me, Raylan." Her own voice brings her over the edge, and she trembles and contracts with incredible force. "Oh yeah, _Now._ Oohhh."

"Oh God…Nona…." He drives into her, collapsing forward; his arms brace on the sofa. He groans with a sound so primal and urgent it intensifies her climax. She feels him throb just before the warm explosion inside her; and he plunges all the way in through the few last long strokes.

They lay together for a few minutes, spent and breathing hard, perspiration shining on their skin. Winona giggles under his weight and he shifts to the side, propping his chin up in his palm, He throws a long arm across her, and his hand finds her belly as usual, roaming across the slightest rounded arc. It's still a long while until they speak.

"You okay?" he asks.

"Gawd yes."

"Cause you really got me goin'." Raylan says.

She grins like a Cheshire cat "Worth the wait?"

"Well, I was 'bout to ask the same thing…..I was feelin' a little like a two pump chump." He says, half serious; but with the hint of a pleading look that only she can see.

Winona laughs at his insecurity and fusses the hair out of his eyes again.

"Cowboy… _you're not_ …I'm the one who couldn't wait…and even if you were…you'd still be the best two pumps of my life." She smiles into a lip smacking kiss. Raylan shrugs and rolls his eyes mischievously, motioning to the end table.

"Hey…'got any more of that Ice Cream?"

Winona hands him the carton and muses. "I figured out what you were up to."

"What?" Raylan says.

"At the furniture store….when we bought this couch." She says. Raylan looks like a kid caught in a cookie jar; or in this case, an ice cream shop. "I thought to myself…now _Why_ does he keep droppin his keys in front of every piece of furniture we look at?"

"Hmmm?" He grins, ice cream in hand, and rights himself on the couch; kicking out of the jeans and boxers once and for all.

"Yeah, and then, when you went to pick them up, you'd kneel _all the way down_ ; at least on one knee and sometimes both…and I thought to myself….. _ **why**_ _is he doin' that?_ _"_

"I can't imagine?"

"I thought…now _does his back hurt_ that he can't bend over, or _is it because of the hole in your side…_ and _**why**_ _is he being so clumsy with those keys?"_ she asks in jest

"Clumsy me." He chuckles low in his throat with devilish enjoyment, and then confesses. "Well… you got me reading that book; and I was just thinkin' 'bout the next few months…." He reaches a hand back to her belly. "And as long we had to buy a new couch it might as well be…. just the right…elevation."

"Clever." She laughs.

"Well…. how'd I do?" He asks.

"I don't know." Winona says slipping off the sofa and onto her knees. "Let me see….." She takes the ice cream out of his hand and takes big bite. Raylan's eyes go wide as he watches her descend.

"Ohhh…Winona"

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-)O(-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

A/N by MCM and WKW


	7. Glynco

* Glynco*

"But why?" Winona asks with despair in her voice. "I thought you said they would try and find a way."

"They did…." He sighs. "Because there just _is not_ an opening for me at Glynco." Raylan looks down at his hands as he answers. "You know with the entire budget cut an' all…."

Tears stream down her face as she lies there speechless. Her gigantic stomach protrudes up out of the bubble bath like a lonely island in a sea of suds. She came in here to try and sooth her aching back and swollen feet. She knew she'd certainly be interrupted when Raylan got home from work; but not with this way, not with this news.

"I'm so sorry, 'Nona. I know you're disappointed." Raylan says to her as she sobs.

"I can't believe it." She tries to pull herself together, sniffles, and wipes her nose, leaving a dollop of bubbles behind.

Raylan smiles lovingly at her, bends down and taps the bubbles back into the tub. He loosens his tie and unbuttons his shirt, slips out of it and tosses it on the hamper. He kneels down then sits on the tiled edge of the sunken tub. He dips his arm in the water and drips it over her belly, watching the drops trail down like a runaway train down a mountainous rail. He wipes the bubbles off on her belly then touches her face, running his thumb across the path of the tears.

"I'll quit…..but…we're gonna need my health insurance here in a couple of weeks."

"Don't be ridiculous. We're gonna need your health insurance after he's born even more, don't you think?" She squawks.

"Hey…"

"I'm sorry….It's just…I'm scared…I'm scared, Raylan."

"I know." Raylan takes her hand and holds it on the tile. "Listen, Nona….you know I can be a worrier too sometimes, especially 'bout…." He gestures to her pregnant belly and she nods in agreement. "Well I got some good advice once, right when I needed it." Winona looks at him quizzically and he continues "Don't worry so much about what's gonna happen tomorrow…just take each day as it comes…and tomorrow will work itself out"

"What?" She scoffs. "Who would say something so dumb? _Don't worry?_ That sounds like something a hippie would say."

Raylan patiently muses and runs his tongue behind his lip trying to squelch the smile.

"Actually, it was one of my first bosses…Listen…." He strokes her face and hair with the other hand, the one with the new wedding band. "…everything's all right…everything's gonna **be** all right."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o


	8. Birthday

*Birthday*

Raylan stares down at the swaddled bundle in his arms. God, he's so tiny! He thought he knew all about wanting to protect people…Ava, Winona, Loretta…that's nothing, _nothing_ compared to what he feels now. It's a miracle, really, an act of fate, or God, or whatever unfathomable force that controls the universe. The odds that they would find each other, lose each other, and somehow come together again to produce this child, have to be astronomical.

This maternity ward doesn't even seem like part of the hospital. More like a five-star motel. The bed's a real bed, with real blankets, not a glorified cot with side bars and a scratchy sheet like he spent all those weeks in, and it's big enough for him to crawl in beside Winona without waking her. He's tempted, but he doesn't want to put the baby down. He's not sure he knows _how_ to put the baby down. What if he cries? That will wake her up, and after eighteen hours of labor, she deserves to sleep.

So he sits in the recliner and holds his sleeping son. The lights in the room are dim, and the day's events in sports play out in an unending middle-of-the-night reel on ESPN on the muted flat screen. He wonders if the repeated images have lodged in his brain so that he'll recall years from now that the Pirates beat the Reds in extra innings the night this boy was born.

The memory comes in a flash, Arlo, in one of his rare reflective moods. _Thought we weren't gonna make it to the hospital. Your mama almost had you in the pick-up truck. You always were in a hurry._ Whenever he talked about the past, there was a note of affection in his voice, but Raylan can't remember any of that ever manifesting itself in an outward display.

He doubts if Arlo ever held him like this or worried about what kind of father he was.

He hates the man, and yet; a part of him yearns for resolution; for that over-used simplistic idea psychologists call _closure_. Sometimes, like in the jail in Harlan after Helen's death, he feels like he'll never rid himself of the darkness and rage of Arlo's shadow. At least not while he's alive. _Humph. Maybe I shouldn't have shot him in the_ _ **arm**_ _,_ he muses.

The bundle in his arms wriggles and he looks down to see the baby's eyes open, wide and blue. _Shhhh._ Please don't cry, he thinks. _Your mama's sleepin'._ He whispers. The child whimpers, but much to his relief, it doesn't bloom into a full-fledged wail, at least not yet.

The door opens and a nurse enters on silent feet. She checks Winona's I.V. and pulse, then approaches Raylan. "She's just fine. How's our little one?"

 _How the hell am I supposed to know?_ He wonders. "Fine. Not crying. That's good, right?"

The nurse smiles. "Yes, that's good. I'll be back in a bit."

She leaves and too late he wants to ask what to do if he _does_ cry. This whole baby thing is a mystery. When he thought about it, while Winona was pregnant, he always pictured a walking talking child, not a helpless infant. Oh sure, he _knew_ that's how things start, he just didn't give it much thought. Maybe he should have.

His mind wanders back to Arlo again. Is it possible to be a good father when the only example he had was such a shitty one? He tries but fails to come up with a good memory that isn't spoiled at some point by too much whiskey or an angry outburst.

Winona's voice comes from the bed, quiet, but calm and resolute. "You're not Arlo. You'll be a wonderful father."

"How'd you know that's what I was thinkin'?" He whispers.

"Know you." She says, sleepily. "Worrier."


	9. Stay

*Stay*

She shouldn't answer the door this late. A smarter woman wouldn't. A better woman, one with more self-control, or common sense, or _something_ would turn out the lights, check on her sleeping son, and go to bed. But Winona has never been that woman, not with this man, anyway. She turns on the porch light, pulls the robe tighter around her, and opens the door.

His hand rests on the door frame, jacket falling open, gun at his hip, all lean lines, even the set of his mouth seems thinner. She wonders if he's eating, sleeping; taking care of himself. She resents the intrusion, this physical reminder of how much she cares about him.

"Jake's asleep." Her voice comes out exasperated; harsher than she means it to.

"Can I see him?"

She softens. "Of course you can see him. He's your son. I'll never keep you away from him."

"Just away from you, huh?" He says. The hat sits low on his forehead and without seeing his expression she doesn't know if his comment is bitter or an attempt at humor, so she ignores it. Opening the door wider, she steps aside so he can come in.

He slips by her, tossing the hat on the table, and she turns her back, walking away from him, to the kitchen. She listens to his footsteps, forcibly quiet, as he goes down the hall to their son's room. Opening the cabinet, she takes down the bourbon she hardly ever touches and pours two fingers in a glass. She sips it, warmth spreading through her, and waits for him to come back out. When he doesn't, she goes to see.

At first he doesn't notice her. He's pulled the chair beside the bed and he's sitting there, head tipped back against the wall, eyes closed, stroking Jake's hair with one hand as the child sleeps. He looks infinitely sad, and she has to swallow the lump in her throat.

"At least we did one thing right," he says.

"Oh, Raylan." She sighs, leaning in the doorway, and stifles the urge to touch him. "We did more than one thing right."

"But he's the best of it."

"Yes," she agrees. "He is."

His voice is so soft she barely hears him. "I miss him."

"He misses you, too." _Damn._ _He's going to make her cry._

He eases to his feet, long legs unfolding, and stands in front of her. "How about you? Do you miss me?"

 _Shit._

Before she can answer, he steps closer and takes her face in his hands. His lips are firm and warm, his tongue insistent. He's kissing her and she's letting him, and then she's kissing back. He backs her out of the boy's room into the hall as her arms go around his neck. When he lifts her, she wraps her legs around his waist and he braces her, back against the wall, pulling at her nightgown as she fumbles with his belt.

They're barely in the bedroom before he's inside her.

After, they lay together in the tangled sheets, breathless and sated. "Seems like you _do_ miss me." He teases.

"Maybe just a little." She can't help smiling. " _This_ has never been our problem but that was…um..." She lets out a breath. "…wow."

"A couple of months without will do that." He smirks.

"Really? You haven't…."

He snorts a laugh and the eyebrow goes up. "With who?"

"Well, that Carol woman from the mining company was in town for some deposition. She always looks at you like she'd like to swallow you whole. I thought maybe…."

"She's not my type."

Winona leans up on one elbow and looks down at him. "I thought she was just your type." She says. "Bitchy."

He raises an eyebrow, the one bisected by the still raw scar. She traces the scar with a finger. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She sighs. "Like me."

He strokes her hair and his lips purse in a small smile as he and pulls her head down for a kiss. "Like you huh…" He holds her face close to his and continues "'been ruminatin' about this, have we?" Winona realizes to him, she's as transparent as glass. So she shrugs and kisses him back.

"Ummm-hummm"

"Winona…let me tell you…there's no one _like you_ **,** " he teases reassuringly.

"Good to know." He wraps an arm around her and she snuggles down beside him, ashamed of how good it feels to have him holding her. The familiar thrum of his heartbeat lulls her into a drowsy contentment.

"Do you want me to go?" His voice is low and quiet, but she feels his muscles tense waiting for her answer.

She throws the question back to him. "Do you want to leave?"

This time he leans up, looming over her, hair falling in his eyes. "I didn't want to leave in the first place, remember?"

She knows what he's asking, knows he isn't just talking about tonight. She knows she very well may regret this, but right now they both want the same thing. His eyes haven't left her face and she reaches up to stroke his cheek. "Stay." She whispers.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

A/N by WKW edited by MCM


	10. The Best Part

*The Best Part*

He's finally getting tired. The toddler had been a boundless source of energy today, but now he is dawdling around the living room like a toy soldier whose winding is on its last revolution. He crosses in front of the T.V. with heavy steps dragging his blanket and clutching a snack box of cheez-its. Finally little Jake plops his butt on the carpet with a thud.

"Getting tired, little man?" His daddy asks.

"At last…" Winona says.

Jake flops over on his panda pillow pet, drops his snacks and sticks his orange thumb in his mouth, blinking heavily and kicking at his blanket.

Raylan and Winona are curled on the sofa as the guest moderator of the Sunday night re-run of Meet the Press - Raylan's pick for the nights viewing- signs off. _I'm Luke Russert and if it's Sunday, it's Meet the Press._

"Are you done watching this?" Winona asked before clicking it off.

Raylan shakes his head, although he knows she can't see him behind her and mumbles "Um-hum". He props himself up and watches Jake over Winona's shoulder. Winona doesn't get up to intervene either. Instead they watch silently together as their child lazily drifts to sleep with his orange fingers curled around his impish nose.

"He sleeps like you," she says. "And it's outta here…." She makes a baseball quip.

"Yeah but he kicks around like you" Raylan says in her ear and she chuckles.

"He's such a good baby"

"When he's sleepin'".

Winona elbows him playfully just below the ribs but hits the soft spot.

"Ow." He flinches. "Easy…I'm still missing some parts there you know." He wasn't joking. That spot still bothered him from time to time, even after all these years.

She turned her head to look up at him. "Sorry, Cowboy," she says and she means it. She takes his arm around her, presses it tightly to her and shimmies closer to him, wiggling her bum against him.

"You're not missing the most important parts" She giggles. Raylan runs his hand from her hip, across her blue jeans and between her thighs, long fingers cradling all the way to the seams.

"Actually _I am_ missing the best part… _very_ much" He says. She turns and looks up at him, reaches for his face and smiles into a kiss.

"Oh yeah?" she says as she settles her back on the sofa, one arm raised above her head and the other playing with his hair. He's still waiting for the green light when she speaks.

"Raylan…lets have another baby." He pulls his hand away and back onto her thigh, looks down and shrugs.

"You serious?"

"Yeah…" She nods and smiles. "Let's have another baby before it's too late." Raylan grins the kind of smile where his eyes light up before they become crescent moons, but he speaks the voice of reason.

"They say two kids are a lot more work that just one. You'll probably have to quit workin'…which is fine…but…."

"I know."

"And what about Daddy and Mama here…" He motions a finger between them. "Is Mama gonna stay happy…cause another baby could be a big challenge."

"I know. I'm ready. I'm up for it…And so, apparently, are _you_." She flexes her thigh into him and pulls him down into a kiss.

"Shhh." He chuckles low as they slip off the sofa, lacking the athletic grace of years past. Winona winds up on the floor and Raylan offers her a hand up. He throws his arm around her shoulder as they both stop and look at the sleeping tot. "Should I take him to his bed?"

"Yes….and then you should take me… _to ours_." she whispers.

There was no way he was _ever_ gonna say no.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

A/N by MCM edited by WKW


	11. Perpetual State of Exhaustion

* Perpetual State of Exhaustion *

Heartbreaking wails cut through the fog of sleep and he reaches out with one arm to rouse Winona. It's her turn. But the bed is empty, covers thrown back. He pushes up and shuffles out to the kitchen in nothing but his boxers, dragging a hand through his hair and yawning. Winona is pacing back and forth in the living room gently jostling their daughter as the child screams. She glances up, her eyes showing fatigue, frustration, and complete helplessness.

"She won't stop crying."

"Is somethin' wrong?"

"I don't think so. No fever. She's dry and fed." She sighs and eases down onto the couch. The baby's screams have settled into a lower decibel, but show no signs of stopping. "I just get her quiet and then I try to put her down and she starts up again. Jake never did this."

No, Jake slept through the night at eight weeks. Art had laughed when Raylan bragged. "Just you wait." He'd said. Raylan should have listened to the voice of experience. Ellie was six months old and never slept more than two or three hours at a stretch. They were all living in a perpetual state of exhaustion.

"Here." He says. "Give her to me. You go back to bed."

"Really?" She gazes at him in complete gratitude. "I don't think I've ever loved you more than I do right this minute." She holds out the baby and Raylan takes her, the transfer initiating an immediate increase in volume and intensity.

"Get some sleep." He says, giving Winona a kiss. She rests her chin on his shoulder for a moment. "Go to sleep for Daddy, Punkin'." She whispers to Ellie. Then in his ear. "Tomorrow night...anything you want." She gives him a smile full of promise.

"Great. Hope I can stay awake for it."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

A/N by WKW


	12. (Almost) Anything You Want

*(Almost) Anything You Want*

Jake's been asleep for almost two hours, but as usual, Ellie did nothing but protest loudly when Winona tried to put her to bed. Now, at last, she has a moment of solitude before the night's next engagement.

With her last obligation complete, Winona looks in the mirror and scrambles her hair with her fingers, hoping for a new result. The humidity this time of year does nothing helpful, so she lifts it Grecian style in a clip. She twists to look at the back and sighs. Her hair looks good but she certainly doesn't feel like Aphrodite.

She looks at her now over forty backside in the mirror and judges herself too harshly, certainly more harshly than Raylan ever would. Just to be sure she slips into a prettier pair of panties long stored at the back of the 'nice' lingerie drawer. They match her tank so she's happy with the choice. Still, she wishes _she_ looked prettier. Why she doesn't know; because she's certain men never worry about such things; then she laughs to herself. _He_ _ **is**_ _pretty vain_. _Why else would he prance around_ _like a peacock_ _in that damned hat?_ _Hell, he's prettier than me half the time._ She pulls back on her capris, dabs blush onto her cheeks, and runs her finger across her teeth.

She misses him; even though he's physically present, looming large as always, she misses him, or maybe it's _them_ that she misses. Everyone was right about how much more work a second child would be. It wasn't twice the work or even three times. She's sure that if you plotted on a graph how much life had changed since Jake and Ellie were born it would look like one of those infernal _curvy_ _things_ that sent her through algebra twice.

But she's lucky. She's got to remind herself, he was right after all. _Tomorrow_ did, in fact, work itself out. She loves their new house, loves their kids, and loves him; enough to try and get past his dangerous occupation. She turns and looks once more in the mirror, at her own infernal curvy things that sent her this husband twice, and leaves to fulfill a promise to him.

Raylan tosses the case file on the coffee table next to the rocks glass when she walks back into the living room. "Is Ellie sleepin'?"

"I gave her that dog that talks and sings those stupid songs."

"The one Tim gave us? I thought you threw that away 'cause it gave you the creeps."

"It does, but she loves it. She's lying in there listening to it. She's quiet. Maybe she'll fall asleep." She sits down on the couch beside him and lays her head on his shoulder.

He swings an arm around her. "Maybe." He says, doubtful. "How long does it last?"

"I've got no idea." Her lips are soft on his neck. "How long can _you_ last, Cowboy?"

"Not very long."

She laughs. "Me, either. We'd better get at it then."

She takes his hand, gets up and leads him down the hall, fingers entwined. With light footsteps they creep past Ellie's door, pausing to listen. Only the strange diabolical voice of the electronic talking dog echoes from beneath the door.

Once past it he moves up behind her, wraps his arms around her waist and lifts her so that she kicks up her heels on the way into their bedroom. "Errrrah" he whispers a growl at her and she squelches a laugh.

"Shhhhh," she says, giggling. He kisses the back of her bare neck, pushing aside the hair loosely dangling out from the clip as he manages to shut the door behind them very, very quietly.

He runs his hands down her waist, onto her hips. He holds her steady and slides a hand down the curve of her ass, lifting it and grinding against her as he push walks her over to the bed. He breathes in her ear and murmurs low his desire for something exotic for the night's activity.

Winona's eyes widen like saucers as she tumbles on all fours onto the bed, twists onto her side and looks up at him. "Raylan!"

"What?" He shrugs out of his shirt. "You said _anything_ I want." He's got mischief in his voice, but she's _pretty_ sure he's not joking.

"Yeah, but I didn't mean _thaat._ " She says. Raylan chuckles at her, takes the cuff of her Capri's and tugs as she wiggles out of them. She leaves the pretty panties she put on only moments ago.

He's down to his boxers next, kicking out of his jeans. "Why not? It's not like we never done it before."

"Yeah, but that was like, more than 10 years ago. You're kidding, right?" The fact that they are nearly whispering this conversation makes it seem even naughtier and more illicit to her than it clearly is.

"What do you think?" He says, crawling in from the foot of the bed. He starts to scoot in beside her and she laughs.

"Take those socks off. You'll never talk me into it looking like that."

The socks get thrown across the room and he slides up behind her. He's back to his ministrations, hands roaming across breast and thigh, mouth on her neck; to which she has no protest.

"I'll get you heated up first," he promises. He licks his fingers and slips them into her panties. "I'll make it feel good"

She breaths a laugh and reaches her hand back, stroking him through the boxers. "You're too big for me, Cowboy."

"Oh, and she deflects with flattery." He says. Winona rolls onto her back and flashes a smile as his fingers continue their task.

"Ummmm. Besides, I already snuck in here and put my diaphragm in; after I put Ellie to bed."

"Oh _and guilt_." He teases, kissing her. She rocks into his grasp, lifts her hips and groans with pleasure. She starts to wiggle out of her panties and he assists. "So when you say _anything you want_ ; you mean anything but _that."_

"Oooo," She's in a delicate predicament under his fingertips. "Now who's throwing around guilt? I thought you said you were so tired you couldn't last long."

"I probably won't if you let me do that." They kiss and pet each other between phrases, their breaths together. "….and that might be a good thing…."

"Um-humm"

"You said _anything._ "

Everything about this moment is familiar and comfortable and easy, but the pillow talk is so damned naughty, kinky and unexpected she can hardly believe they're whispering about it. Suddenly they are not the harried, beleaguered parents of just a few minutes ago; now they're two stealthy, clandestine lovers again, perhaps about to engage in some hot felonious behavior. The contrast to everyday life is stark; and she's seduced by even the murmured suggestion of impropriety.

"How'd I know what you were thinkin? Ummmm." Winona bucks and invites his attention. "I thought you were gonna ask for a blow job."

"Oh." He slips away from Winona, flips onto his back and adjusts the pillow, hand behind his head. "If you insist." He says, chuckling low and deep.

"Raylan!" she sits up in protest. "You're terrible! You try and talk me into _that_ so that I won't mind doin' _this?"_ He smiles that tongue under the lip grin and she can't be anything but charmed. "Tricky." She says, crawling half on top of him, drawing him out of the boxers. " _Very_ tricky."

He moans and she lays kisses across his long body in spots she knows he loves; stopping, as usual, to sooth the terrible scar. She strokes him softly, slowly making her way to her goal.

"The thing is," She whispers along soft kisses. "I _never_ mind doing _this_."

"Oh yeah?"

"I _love_ doing this." She says with her sexiest voice and a squeeze.

"Ummm. Then you should do it more often."

Her voice straightens "You're right I should…. _I will_." He smiles, watching her.

Just as she's about to lower her mouth to him, Ellie begins to wail like a siren from the other room.

"No!" He yelps. "Why? Why can't she sleep?" He grabs a pillow and covers his ears "Arragh! Mother fuck!"

"Apparently not right now." Winona drops her forehead onto his hipbone, defeated, as the wails continue. "I can't believe it."

"I can."

"Sorry, Cowboy."

"It's okay." He jostles her shoulder. "Go get her before she wakes up Jake."

Winona gets up and slips on a bathrobe. She comes back the edge of the bed, lays her hand on his chest and bends to kiss him. He looks up through his lashes with the most pitiful whimper and she can't help but smile.

"Don't wait _up_." She pats his cheek and giggles out of the room.

Crossing the threshold of the bedroom is like stepping back into another world. The world with the crying babies and responsibility. She'd much preferred to have stayed in the one she just left; the one where she was about to make him moan. The world where she could coax him and wile him and remind him how good they can be together; and hopefully be reminded herself.

Winona picks up his glass and sips at the melted ice and watered down whiskey as she dances Ellie around the living room. She notices that he's been pouring them and not finishing them as of late, and she's glad for that for more than one reason. Jakes wakes up during the waltz and calls for his mother, but soon falls right back to sleep. Thirty five minutes later Ellie finally dozes in Winona arms. She lays the child down and quietly slips back into her other world.

She watches him lying there sleeping, sprawled across the bed. It's hot, so he's pulled only the sheet over him, and it pools around his waist with a long leg extended. He looks like he might have been the last patron at a toga party. Even now, situated squarely in his mid forties, he's fit and handsome; a little heaver, but still solid and beautiful. She realizes she forgets sometimes, and only looks past him; at the piles of laundry and dirty dishes and not at the beautiful things in her life. "Still a gorgeous man" she sighs and muses aloud.

He barely flutters his eyes open, no wider than a slit and smiles. "Still a beautiful woman." He reaches her wrist and pulls her toward him. "Come're."

She unbelts and slips out of her robe, lifts the sheet and slides on top on him. "Oh, my." She says. "None of that funny business, Cowboy." He smiles sleepily.

"Noooo funny business." He repeats.

"Maybe for your birthday." She whispers, pulling her tank over her head. "I thought you'd take matters into your own hands."

"I waited."

"Good."

This time they're quiet and slow. His fingers find her still slippery and he lifts her, guiding himself into her. She lies on his chest and they kiss nearly constantly as they make love to each other. Soft mewing sounds become quiet gasps in this still, hot night. She braces herself on his big, broad shoulders so he knows she's close. They come together beautifully, deep and hard, with raspy moans.

They _do_ remember. She settles her body onto him, flesh serenely heavy and content. He strokes her thigh curled around him. He's still inside her as she nestles her head against his chest and falls asleep.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o)O(o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

\

A/N By MCM and WKW

This chapter is an add- on. Originally, we had them cooling off precipitously in the next chapter. Then some wise eyes commented that the previous chapter made it sound like something steamy was up next, and she couldn't wait to read it. So…

Thanks also the one who sees nuance, or lack thereof?

Dedicated to all those married with children. "I never showed much aptitude for it", but you women have my eternal respect.


	13. On Christmas Morning

*One Christmas Moring*

Small feet thud quickly down the hallway and the bedroom door creaks open. A nightgown-clad figure flies onto the bed. "Mama! Daddy! Santa was here! Santa was here!"

"Oof. _Shit_." Raylan gasps.

"Raylan!" Winona hisses.

"Daddy has to put a dollar in the swear jar!" Ellie sings.

He turns his head and groans low in Winona's ear. "She got me right in the balls."

Winona smothers a laugh and opens her arms to Ellie. "Come'ere Punkin'."

Ellie crawls over her father and snuggles against Winona. She can feel the four-year-old's heart pounding with excitement. "But Mama, there's presents!"

"I know, Sweetie, but it's too early. Look at the numbers on the clock...what are they?"

"Five..." Ellie says, then hesitates. "Those funny dots...a four...and then a six."

"That's right. It's not even six o'clock yet. Your brother is still sleeping."

Her head pops up from Winona's shoulder. "Can I go wake him up?"

"Not yet." She smoothes Ellie's hair and pulls the blanket around them both. "Just try to go back to sleep for awhile."

"Yeah, right." Raylan says. "She's not going to go back to sleep; are you, Ellie-girl?" He gives her ribs a poke and she giggles.

Ellie shakes her head in agreement. "Not sleepy."

"When are you _ever_ sleepy?" Winona murmurs.

"Maybe we could just get the stocking? You wanna see what's in your stocking?"

She can't help but smile at her husband. "You're as bad as she is, Raylan!"

"Aww, come on. He hoists Ellie onto his shoulders. "Whoop, duck your head." She giggles as he carts her all the way down the hall and into the living room. Winona trails behind.

"Keep your eyes closed, Ellie. Just let Daddy get the stocking and bring it back into the bedroom. You can open it there."

"You heard your mama, eyes closed."

"Okay, Daddy."

"No peeking, now!"

"I promise."

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

It's a little past seven and wrapping paper, ribbon, and boxes litter the living room. It's always amazing to him how little time it takes to destroy hours of work. Ellie sits cross-legged on the floor, brushing the hair of the look-alike _American Girl_ doll in her lap.

"That looks so much like her it's a little scary," he says, sipping his coffee.

"Just watch her though," Winona says. "She loves it."

"Yeah, but did she really need three outfits and a bedroom set? I saw the _bill_."

"Santa got a little carried away." She shrugs. "Sorry."

"Jake," Raylan calls the boy over and points to a package leaning against the wall in back of the tree. "I think there's one more for you. From me, not Santa."

Jake rolls his eyes at the Santa remark. Raylan winks at Jake and shoots a protective glance over at Ellie. Nearly eight years old was far too old to believe in Santa, _of course_ , but Ellie is still enchanted in the myth.

Winona raises an eyebrow at him. Raylan knows she didn't see the vertical box behind the tree last night because she was fast asleep when he hid it there. There's only one thing that could come in such an oddly shaped box. Winona grimaces as she watches Jake unwrap the package. His jaw drops as he holds up the rifle, and Raylan can't help grinning at his son.

"Awesome!" Jake says. "Thanks, Dad." Jake throws his arms around his dad's neck and hugs him.

Raylan catches him for just a second and quietly says "When you stop believing in Santa is when you _usually_ start getting socks and underwear for Christmas, Bud." Jake chuckles and goes back to his new gun.

o-o-o-O-o-o-o

"A gun? Really? You bought our seven-year-old son a gun?" Winona leans on the kitchen counter, arms crossed in front of her, clutching her coffee cup in one hand. With effort, she manages to keep her voice low. She dragged him in here so the kids wouldn't witness this Christmas morning confrontation. "I thought we talked about this."

"First of all, he's almost eight." He refills his own cup and offers her some but she shakes her head.

"He's _seven and a half._ "

"And it's a rifle, not a .38 special. I had a rifle when I was _six_."

"Well, we don't live in _Harlan_ , thank God. There are enough guns in this house already."

"Yeah, and they're all locked up, like this one will be too. We've taught 'em how to be safe around firearms since they could walk. I want him to respect guns, but I enjoy shootin' and I want to teach him. It's somethin' we can do together."

"You do plenty with him now." She sighs. "It's not so much the gun as the fact that you let me think we'd settled this and then you went right ahead and did what you wanted." _Just like you always do._ She adds under her breath.

o-o-o-O-o-o-o

"Mom? Aren't you guys going to unwrap your presents?" Jake calls from the living room.

"Come on, _don't_ do this now. We can talk later."

"There's nothing to talk about. You got it, he loves it, and if I say 'no', then I'm the bad guy." Winona sighs.

"Whatever you say."

He puts an arm around her and she reluctantly allows him to pull her in. "I think there's something in your stocking you mighta missed." He's got that mischievous look on his face, and he knows he can make her laugh, even when she's angry, like now.

"I shook it to be sure I got everything," She says, curious, as they walk back in together. He takes the stocking down from the fireplace mantle and hands it to her. Sure enough, it crackles when she takes it from him. She pulls out the envelope. _The Cincinnatian_ is printed in round script letters. She pulls out the card. "New Year's weekend? A whole weekend? That's the really fancy hotel where we went to Art's daughter's wedding reception, isn't it?"

"Yep, and we've got dinner reservations and a suite. Loretta is on winter break from UK and she said she'd stay the _whole weekend_ to babysit. She'll bring her boyfriend, of course, but…. _At least the college kids will see some action in this house._ He thinks.

Winona stares dubiously as if she clearly just read his mind, and he wonders for a second if he might just have said that out loud. "I've got it all arranged." He says.

"A whole weekend," she repeats, seeming to mull it over in her mind. Raylan can't remember the last time they've had a whole day to themselves, never mind an entire weekend, and he's pretty sure she can't either.

"What? You don't wanna spend two whole days alone with me?" He's keeping it light, but there's an exasperation underneath that he can't hide.

"Of course I do. It's just...we haven't done anything like this in a long time."

"Too long." He agrees. "My fault."

"Not just you." She's baulked more than once at leaving the kids; and having her own up to it is refreshing.

She stands on tiptoe to kiss him and he pulls her close, whispering in her ear. "There's another present for you under the bed in our room." She leans back and looks at him.

"Why don't you open yours?"

"Yes!" Ellie shouts. "Open the box, Daddy!"

He tears into the package and lifts the lid. "Wow."

"They're ostrich, Daddy. That's a big bird from Ostrichalia."

" _AUS_ tralia, dumbutt," Jake laughs, pretending to double over in hilarity. "Not _Ostrichalia_." He laughs again.

"I'm not a dumbutt!" Ellie yells, hands on her hips.

"Jake, apologize to your sister."

"Aw, Mom, it was funny."

" _Jake_." The tone in Raylan's voice is a warning.

"Sorry," he mutters.

"Do you like 'em Daddy?" Ellie asks.

"These are fantastic." He holds up one of the boots.

The expression on his face is hard to interpret. "I saw that you'd looked at them online." Winona offers. "So I got them. You aren't exactly easy to buy for….."

"I'd looked at 'em, but decided they were too expensive." He raises an eyebrow at her.

"Raylan..."

"We'll talk later."

o-o-o-O-o-o-o

She runs the brush through her hair too hard and looks at him in the reflection of the mirror. "If you don't like them, just send them back."

"I like them fine, it's just, I thought we were on a budget. With all the government cutbacks there isn't going to be any raise this year." He reminds her.

"Oh, a one-time New Year's weekend at the Cincinnatian fits into the budget but a pair of boots you'll wear _for years_ doesn't?"

"You just don't want to go." He pulls off his t-shirt and tosses it in the hamper.

"Of course I want to go." She turns from the mirror and sits back against the dresser.

He stoops and reaches under the bed, pulling out a silver-wrapped package. "I didn't think you should open _this_ in front of the kids."

She unties the ribbon slowly and slits the tape with a fingernail, sliding the paper off. Lifting the lid of the box she runs her hands over the silky fabric. Red always was his favorite color. She slips her thumbs through the straps and holds the short gown up in front of herself, looking in the mirror. "It's gorgeous, Raylan."

"I can't wait to see you in it."

She laughs. "You mean you can't wait to take it off of me."

They haven't done _that_ in awhile either, amazingly. She'd thought that parenting would get easier as Jake and Ellie got older, but instead of dirty diapers and sleepless nights now it's running ragged getting them to school, activities, and play-dates and arguing about things like whether or not Jake is old enough for a gun.

"Well let's just say that I haven't _seen Mommy kissing Santy Claus_ in quite a while _."_ He says. Winona carefully lays the lingerie back in its box and closes it. She turns around and goes to him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"I still kiss Santa Claus." She says with a soft smooch.

"Yeah, well not like you're gonna kiss him New Years Eve."

"Thank-you, Raylan" she says, sincere. She kisses him again, this time teasing him with the tip of her tongue.

Then from the other room a shriek at such a high pitched decibel that it could only be Ellie. _"Mom!"…._

Raylan sighs. "Thank me in Cincinnati."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

A/N By WKW with a little help from MCM


End file.
